


Schooled

by misura



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fade to Black, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Pre-Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: It takes a while before Qi'ra gets to meet her real boss.





	Schooled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



Dryden Vos does not believe in learning experiences. That's the first thing she learns about him, other than his name, his reputation.

"Ah. Qi'ra, was it?" he says, looking up from a corpse. Its clothes look expensive, the jewelry real.

Qi'ra notes the empty holster. She has no weapons herself, nothing to turn in. Nothing to feel helpless without, except maybe Han (and she knows now that Han needed her much more than she ever needed him). If the worst thing that can happen to her here is quick, clean death, that's a relief.

"Yes," she says, allowing him to notice her glancing at the corpse. (Does Dryden want her to flinch? It seems likely that he's planned their meeting to happen like this, with him showing off a fresh kill - a test, to see how she reacts. So she decides not to.)

"Proxima speaks of you quite highly," Dryden says. A servant darts forwards with a tray. He drops the knife and picks up a glass. There's no second one, no illusion that she's come here as a guest, rather than what she is. "Quite highly, indeed. That's rare."

_She sold me to you. Of course she spoke highly of me,_ Qi'ra thinks.

Dryden chuckles. "You don't believe me." He wags a finger at her, as if she's a child. "Or rather, you do, but you think I'm a fool for actually believing her. Maybe you're right, who knows? Maybe I wasted my money. Do you think I wasted my money?"

"No," Qi'ra says. Her mouth feels dry. She realizes that against all reason, she wants to live. Han is gone, and he's not coming back. Dryden is a new chance. He's paid money for her. He's going to want a return on his investment. He's going to want her to live, at least for a while.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" Dryden sighs. "Pity. I do enjoy intelligent conversation. Still, I'm sure we can find some position suited to your particular talents, once we discover what they are? Any ideas?"

"A few," Qi'ra says.

Dryden smiles at her, snapping his fingers. A different servant dashes forwards, a different tray, a different drink. Qi'ra accepts the glass and sits down where Dryden indicates she should sit.

Qi'ra's not sure when she first starts thinking about killing Dryden.

Dryden treats her kindly, by a certain definition of 'kindly'. He pays her well for jobs well done. He threatens to kill her for jobs not as well done. There's more of the first than the last.

Qi'ra thinks she could almost get used to living like this. Never quite safe, but as much in control of her life as anyone can hope to be. Things are not as they were in the Den. She doesn't need to worry about people stealing her things, or claiming credit for her hard work. She doesn't need to be afraid for Han. She doesn't need to worry about making friends, though she tries not to make any enemies.

Dryden is the only one who could harm her without needing to worry about the consequences.

Or so she thinks, for a while.

"Qi'ra." Dryden rises when she enters. He sounds odd, subdued, almost.

It takes Qi'ra a few moments to realize that he's nervous, and then a few moments more to realize that they're not alone.

"Sit, sit." Dryden makes an effort to sound more like his usual self.

Qi'ra smiles. It costs her nothing to smile. "Thank you, Dryden. Are you going to introduce me to our guest?" (Addressing Dryden with familiarity: _disrespect me at your own peril_ , using 'our' rather than 'your': _I enjoy Dryden's full trust and view his interests as my own_.)

Dryden smiles back. He's less good at it than Qi'ra. "Of course. Qi'ra, meet Darth Maul. Darth Maul, Qi'ra. I must say, it's a rare treat to have you here in person." (Translation: something is wrong. Proceed with caution. This man is dangerous.)

"I have certain concerns about some of your recent operations," Maul says.

"Well!" Dryden says. "Can't have that, can we? Though I must say, I think we're doing quite well. A few set-backs here and there, true, but these things happen. You cannot expect a 100% success-rate. The universe simply doesn't allow it."

Qi'ra imagines standing up and telling Maul, _put me in charge. I can get you better results than Dryden._ Dryden has tested her loyalty before, though, and this might still be that.

Besides, she knows nothing about Maul, other than his name.

"I did not come here to hear excuses," Maul says.

Dryden spreads his hands. "Don't think of them as excuses. Think of them as perfectly good reasons. Come now, work with me a little here. What can I say to take away your concerns?" He looks at Qi'ra, as if to say, 'don't you agree our guest is being just a bit unreasonable, my dear?'.

Qi'ra inclines her head. She's not here to be held responsible, she thinks. To serve as a scapegoat, a sacrifice. She's here because Dryden wants her here, to support him.

"Say? Nothing." Maul turns to look at Qi'ra.

Dryden makes a choked sound. Qi'ra is careful not to look away. Proxima wanted people to look away, to submit and grovel. Dryden has trained her to face people down, to let them see everything she is, everything she can do. Everything she has done already to get where she is today.

"Rather, I am here to deliver a lesson," Maul says.

Dryden makes some more choking sounds. Qi'ra swallows, noting the way Maul's eyes flicker to her throat, before his gaze slides down to her chest.

She feels like in his mind, she's already naked, and his. She thinks the thought should disgust her, rather than exciting her, arousing her. Dryden has killed men for looking at her the wrong way, in the beginning, before he taught her, trusted her to do it herself.

Dryden wheezes, as if someone's been trying to strangle him. "Not - "

Maul smiles. "Qi'ra. Don't you think you would be much more comfortable sitting with me?"

One word from Dryden could summon at least two dozen hired guns. Dryden's a pragmatist. He kills people himself because he enjoys it, not from any sense of pride. If Maul can walk in here and do this, it's because Dryden doesn't dare do anything other than let him.

"Qi'ra," Dryden whispers.

Qi'ra rises and moves over to where Maul is sitting, slow enough to make it clear she's doing it because she wants to. Maul's smile widens. "Closer," he says.

_A lesson._ Qi'ra wonders how far this will go. How far she wants this to go. How far Dryden can let this go. If Maul kills him, if Qi'ra resists, if Dryden loses his temper - there are a lot of possibilities in this moment, some of them much more favorable than others.

"Closer," Maul says.

Dryden starts to choke again. Qi'ra would worry about poison, except that no poison she knows of acts with intervals, or at the whim of the poisoner.

"Closer," - and then she's straddling his lap, his hands on her arms, his mouth waiting for her to surrender to what feels inevitable, and a wave of _want_ washes over her, like there's a part of her that's been asleep all this time and has now woken up.

(It costs her nothing to surrender her body. Her body is not Qi'ra.)

"You will show an improvement in your numbers over the next three months," Maul says.

Qi'ra moans. She feels violated, taken, but at the same time fulfilled, her body tightening around the invader as much to welcome it as to repel it, to keep it from going further, deeper.

"This - this is uncalled for," Dryden says.

"Who of us would you prefer to trade places with most, I wonder?" Maul chuckles. "Not that it matters. I believe 'both' will suit very well. Or perhaps I shall let her to do the honors. Why not? One good turn deserves another, after all."

"You are making her do this," Dryden says. "There's nothing - she's not doing any of this for you."

Part of Qi'ra notes this moment. There's danger here. If she loses Dryden's trust, the position she's gained for herself - if he can't look at her without remembering this moment, it could cost her everything.

"Am I?" Maul smiles at her, his face hidden from Dryden. "Are you quite certain?"

"Fine," Dryden says. "You've made your point. Lesson learned. Now, please. Can we start behaving again like reasonable, rational people?"

Maul thrusts upwards, and Qi'ra feels something inside of her give way.

"Please," Dryden repeats.

"Soon," Maul promises, kissing Qi'ra's throat. "We will have a bit of fun first, Qi'ra and me and you."

"I don't - " Dryden starts.

"Go," Maul tells Qi'ra. "Bring him to me. This next lesson will be for you."


End file.
